Life After Death
by PandaFollowsPeach
Summary: What if Violet hadn't escaped Olaf's clutches on the night of the Marvelous Marriage? It's been done, but not like this.
1. Morning Routine

1_The sign over the door read "Backstage Only" and it nearly fell down as Olaf slammed the door behind him. Violet looked up, silent. She had been waiting here as instructed for what seemed like hours. The cold had turned her fingers and toes numb. Olaf's face was a mask of fury. _

"_It's time to go." He said at last._

"_I want to say goodbye." Violet said through her tears. _

"_Come on." He said, grabbing her by the arm. "This has been a disaster of a performance, I just want to go home and sleep it off." _

"_I want to say goodbye to my brother." Violet insisted, digging her heels in. Olaf ignored her, and began to walk faster. _

_Klaus struggled to keep up, holding onto their baby sister at the same time. _

_The limo rumbled at the end of the alley, like a horse pawing the ground, inpatient. _

"_Please, just let me say goodbye to my brother and sister! Olaf, please!" Violet pleaded, her fingernails digging into Olaf's arm as he dragged her towards the waiting limousine. _

"_Violet, wait!" Klaus cried. "I'll find you! I promise I'll come for you!"_

_Violet twisted to get a last glimpse of her brother, tears of streaming down her face as Olaf opened the door and shoved her in. _

"_Wait here orphan, I'll be right back." _

_He slammed the door on the hem of Violet's dress, tearing it with a loud rip. She bent down to examine it, and stopped. What the hell... Violet's hand touched something small and hard, cold metal. She picked it up. It was a bullet. _

_Her heart rose into her throat and Violet began to pound more frantically on the door, shaking the handle desperately. _

"_Olaf, don't do it please I'll give you anything you want just don't-"_

_BANG!_

_Violet released her grip on the door handle. She sank back into her seat, silent. _

_She didn't want to know which sibling it was. _

The sun was coming up.

Violet rolled over and squinted through the smudged window. The sky was dull and heavy, the street glistening with the morning's drizzled rain. An entirely miserable day. Violet sighed and after a moment, she stretched. As usual, her muscles ached from the previous days' work, and as she looked down she realized she had lost a sock during her nightmare. The dream had shaken her, crept into her unconscious without warning. Thirteen seemed a very long way away, as if the whole thing, her whole life up until then, had just been a dream. Violet frowned. She had never liked that song, not even as a child.

Now she was a woman of twenty three, with a proud and graceful bearing, large eyes and dark hair barely that swept the top of her backside. Over the years the constant scrubbing floors and carrying buckets had turned the small amount of baby fat on her body to taut muscle.

As she stood and examined herself in the full length mirror, Violet couldn't help but cheer up a little. She had turned out, in a word, gorgeous. Not bad for two kids. As if on cue, the sound of wailing echoed through the mansion. Violet groaned inwardly, and she took off her remaining sock. Life was but a dream indeed.

In the mornings the house was like ice, the smell of dust and smoke crystalized by the chill in the air. Violet was used to the cold. She padded down the hall in her panties and undershirt, stopping at her husband's door to shut it as carefully as possible.

As if he knew what she was doing, the baby began to cry louder.

"Yes Nicky, I'm coming. Try to be patient, it won't-"

Violet froze in the doorway. A tall figure was bent over her son's cradle, murmuring something in his ear.

"Esme, do you need something?" Violet finally said.

Esme stood up and turned around, a smile spreading across her lipsticked mouth. "Just checking on the baby."

Violet swallowed hard. Suddenly she was very aware of her lack of clothing.

"Nice panties." Esme chuckled. "Get dressed before Olaf sees you like that. You're liable to get a beating like you've never experienced."

Violet could feel the blood pounding in her temples.

_How dare she._

Her fist tightened but Violet resisted the temptation. Instead, she bit her tongue, picked up her son, and headed to do as Esme had told her.

As she stepped off the last stair, Violet smoothed the front of her skirt, and gathered her courage. It was a form fitting pastel number, tasteful and practical and very expensive, like most of the clothes she owned. It was a far cry from Mrs. Poe's hand-me-downs. Hopefully Olaf would appreciate it, even if baby pink was her absolute least favorite color. Nikolai was gurgling away, relatively content to crawl around the dusty front parlor while his mother hurried to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for her husband and the troupe.

Violet stepped into the kitchen, and stopped. Olaf was up and awake, a surprise at six in the morning. He was drinking what looked like scotch on the rocks and scribbling something on a well worn notepad. Lucafont was sitting beside him as usual, watching intently.

"Tell your girlfriend to keep her hands off my baby."

Olaf looked up from his scribbling, but said nothing.

"I'm not joking. I'll knock her teeth down her throat. I don't care if she pays the bills or not."

Lucafont snorted, Olaf sighed.

"How old is it now?"

"He'll be two in a few days. I thought I might take him for a ride later, if it's all right with-"

"-I don't care what you do with him." Olaf interrupted. "Just keep him quiet this afternoon, the troupe and I have something important to plan."

Violet nodded. "I will, it's just...it's almost Nicky's birthday, I thought maybe..."

"You want money."

"Two hundred."

Olaf sighed, and rubbed the back of his head uneasily. "Violet, where do you think I would get that sort of money?"

Violet shrugged. "From Esme. You could borrow it, and we'll pay her back."

"I hate borrowing money, Violet."

"I hate our son going without clothes another three months."

"Violet, we..." Olaf didn't finish. After an long silence, he stood up and walked out.

Violet flopped down in the chair beside Lucafont, who shook his head.

"Good luck on that one. She's still sore about where the last five hundred she gave him went."

"Quiet." Violet whispered, glaring at the henchman.

"You know he's going deaf as a post. Villains don't age very well, I should know."

Violet made a face. "Didn't he...I don't know...steal my family's fortune? What happened to that?"

Lucafont shrugged. "Where does money go these days? This mansion, piece of shit that it is. That car you drive, I know. I'm still waiting for my share. You want to get on the mopping now? I'm supposed to be on your back about it, so to speak."

Violet smiled. "You can ride my back anytime."She replied, winking.

"Dirty girl. Go mop."

"You're coming to dinner tonight, I assume."

"Of course."

"Good. I'll see you then."

Without another word she picked up her mop.

_Time to go to work. _


	2. Ashes From Heaven

Slowly, painfully, she stood up to admire her work. With a little work, the faded hardwood floors of the front hall positively glowed. With the windows washed, the fading light streamed through and played across the cherry wood, turning it a rich red-gold. It reminded her of her childhood home, opulence at its old world finest. Of course in a few days it would need scrubbing again-

"Violet! My troupe is waiting for dinner, as usual!" A harsh voice from the kitchen broke Violet's reverie. She sighed.

"On my way." Violet muttered, almost to herself. She quickly unbuckled her shoes to tiptoe across the floor in her stocking feet, ignoring Olaf's demands for faster dinner service.

"Violet, we have a guest tonight."

Esme Squalor in all her carmine glory, sat perched on the edge of the counter, gazing at her own reflection in a pot hanging above the stove.

Nicky sat on the floor, smearing potatoes in his hair.

"Sorry I didn't get to take you for a ride." Violet said as she picked him up. "Later, I swear. Esme, are you eating?"

Esme shook her head, and Violet went about serving the roast beef without much small talk. She was too tired for it, and as usual, the troupe ignored her anyway.

"I heard you want money for Nikolai. Let me hold him." Esme demanded. After a moment of hesitation, Violet handed Nicky over.

"As long as it's going to the baby, I suppose I can spare something. How about five hundred?"

"That'll do." Violet said.

"He's absolutely precious, isn't he?" Esme cooed. "I'll bet he's walking before Christmas, that is, if mommy ever puts him down long enough to give him a chance."

Violet scowled, but said nothing.

"Can't be too careful with babies." Flo said. "They're always going where they shouldn't."

"Like Char-" Flo clasped her hand over Tocuna's mouth before the younger sister could finish her sentence.

"That's enough of this talk." Olaf interrupted. "Any more and I'll leave you all to do dishes."

"Stupid!" Tocuna hissed to Flo, who hung her head and sniffled pitifully.

"I said that's enough. We have a job to do tonight, I want all of my troupe in top form for it. _Especially_ my girls."

Olaf turned back to Violet. "Get the baby dressed. He's old enough to get a taste of what his father does for a living."

"We don't have room!" Flo protested, and Olaf only had to glare at the woman to silence her.

He stood up, pushing himself away from the table.

"Violet, go get the baby dressed. I've lost my appetite completely."

She nodded. "Luca, carry the baby up for me."

Lucafont shrugged, and picked up the toddler in the crook of his arm.

"Upstairs?"

"Of course."

Up the stairs, down the long hallway to the lonely bedroom that housed her son, Violet feeling along the wall for the light switch to make their journey a little easier.

As they rounded the corner into the baby's nursery and set him in his crib, Violet could wait no longer. She pinned Lucafont hard against the wall, pressing her body against his with every ounce of strength she had.

Her hands fluttered up the outline of his body, gripping his shoulders with a ferocity Lucafont has been unaware she possessed.

"We really, really shouldn't be...doing this..." He managed between kisses. "It's an incredibly hot... incredibly bad idea-"

"-Then stop kissing me back, silly." Violet replied as she fumbled for the buttons of his shirt with one hand, and reached out to slam the door shut with the other. "Nobody will find out, it can just be our little-"

A knock on the door broke the mood.

"Violet, is that thing dressed yet? He's tiny, he can't wear that much."

Violet sighed, and released her grasp on Lucafont. "Yes, Olaf. We'll be right down."

"Later." Lucafont murmured, a hint of regret in his voice. "The troupe comes first. Come on."

It was a long, dull car ride.

The car pulled up in front of a ramshackle two story, surrounded on all sides by heavy, overgrown vegetation. Violet squinted to see in the dark. What a miserable place.

Why would Olaf have any interest in this...shack?

There was not much time to think about it. The troupe was piling out of the car one by one, silent. Violet didn't dare open her mouth and ask questions. Violet pulled her jacket tighter around her body and stepped out behind them.

The cold struck her in the face like a slap.

Dead vines and dried leaves crackled under her feet, but Violet got the feeling the owners would soon have a much bigger problem than bad landscaping. It reminded her of a haunted mansion from one of the late night movies she had grown so fond of.

Olaf's hand on her shoulder made Violet snap back into reality.

"Violet, you're on watch duty as usual. Don't let us down."

"Of course." She replied, shifting her son to her other hip.

"Good girl." He kissed her on the forehead, and Violet couldn't help but smile.

As Olaf and his troupe crept around the back of the house, Violet settled down on the step of the decaying front porch, cuddling her son partially for warmth and partially for comfort.

"Are you having fun, love?" She murmured.

Nicky yawned in response, and dug deeper into his mother's heavy jacket.

"Me too." She sighed.

The silence was enveloping, heavy. Violet tried to keep her eyes open, with little success.

She dozed, drifting into a deep and dreamless sleep under the stars, and the blanket of the night sky.

_"Olaf, don't do it please I'll give you anything you want just don't-"_

BANG!

Violet's eyes snapped open.

Stupid dreams. What a waste of a good nap. But where was...

_They're taking too long. Something's wrong. _

She laid the toddler down on the steps and stood, stretched and yawned. Her knees hurt. An aftereffect of the cold, and too much floor scrubbing. The moon had reappeared from behind the clouds, somehow making the night seem even more cold and empty. She took a few steps out intro the yard, not daring to go too far from her appointed post.

The sound of branches cracking broke the silence.

Violet spun around her on her heels.

"Put your hands up." Violet said, trying to control the shaking in her voice.

"Just me." A soft voice called back.

Violet instantly recognized the deathly white face staring back at her, and she let down her guard.

"Tocuna?"

Before she could get an answer, Flo and Lucafont appeared.

They were dragging somebody behind them...what the hell? It was...was it the owner of the house? Violet bent down beside him, and her curiosity turned to cold horror.

It was Olaf. He was deathly pale, the only color in his face a splatter of drying red running down his neck and staining his collar.

"What happened?" Violet cried as she unbuttoned her shirt to press against the wound.

"It was Snicket." Tocuna spoke in a quavering voice. "He shot him."

"Where?"

"Once in the neck and then-then in the head, that's when he fell down."

"Let me see."

Violet peeled back the balled up fabric pressed against his neck, and a fountain of blood gushed forward onto her dress.

"Oh God." She instantly pressed her hands against the wound, the hot crimson, soft like liquid silk poured out between her fingers faster than she could contain it.

"Get back!" Esme screamed, knocking Violet away.

"What's the point?" Flo said quietly. "Let's dig a hole before the cops show up."

"Shut your mouth, Flo." Lucafont responded. "He's not even dead yet. I don't think so anyway. Get him in the back."

"Where's Snicket now?"

"Knocked out cold." Tocuna replied as she heaved the body into the backseat. "I hit him with a brick."

"We have to go to a hospital." Esme repeated again, in the same choked whisper. "We have to do something. I won't just let him die."

"No." Lucafont replied. "We can't do that. We'll go home. Violet, you still have those medical books Justice Strauss left you?"

Violet nodded, not daring to take her eyes off Olaf.

"I'm not letting her kill him!" Esme wailed.

"Esme, even if we took him to a hospital what do you think they could do? Look at him, there's fucking brain all over the back seat!"

"We have to try!"

Violet huddled down and covered her ears. She didn't want to hear it. Not that, not the fighting, not any of it.

She never heard Olaf's last breath, or the screams of mourning that followed.

So that was that. It was over.

A hole, about four feet deep and shiny with ice already. It smelled too, as if this was not the first time somebody had met an unofficial burial in this lonely backyard.

What a sad looking grave.

"You should've dug deeper." Violet said at last.

"Can't." Lucafont replied. " It's frozen solid. Took us all this time just to get a few feet."

"It might thaw out in the morning." Flacutono offered, but Lucafont shook his head.

"He's attracting roaches." Lucafont said, as he stomped on one. "Let's just get it over with."

"I should cry or something."Violet commented.

"Just go back in the house." Flacutono replied. "This isn't any place for a little girl."

Violet did not answer. Instead, she turned and shuffled back to the house, kicking up clumps of dirt and regretting the whole damn day.

Numb, she made her way up the stairs, down the long hallway to Nicky's room. He was asleep. Blissfully unaware of what had just transpired.

It would be all right. She would take Nikolai and they would start over, somewhere else. Leave the life of flames behind. It could work. They would finally go see his older sister Charlotte's grave, untended for so many years.

A cold hook against her shoulder made Violet sigh.

"What will we do?" She asked, not bothering to turn around.

"I don't know what you're going to do. But I'm taking my share of the Quagmire fortune and getting out of here while I still have most of my limbs."

"You could come with me and the baby."

Lucafont smiled, and brushed her hair away from her face with one of his hooks.

"In a word...no. Nothing personal."

"So, really, I'm free to go." Violet said aloud.

Lucafont nodded. "If you want. I don't know why you'd stay here, but I don't really know where else you could go."

A soft voice from the doorway coughed, and Violet looked up. It was Flacutono.

"Luca, we're leaving. Taking Esme home."

Lucafont stood up. "I'll come back in the morning. Just to get my money."

Violet shrugged. Who cared?

Her head was starting to pound. She stumbled into her bedroom, rather, Olaf's bedroom, and collapsed in the dusty arm chair that faced the window and the immeasurable night sky. She lay backwards in the arm chair, closing her eyes. It was entirely too much to deal with in one night. She heard the slam of the front door as what was once Olaf's troupe dispersed into the night.

What a legacy. She wanted to sleep. Or something. From somewhere in the house, she could hear a radio playing. Soft and sweet.

_You'll be a volunteer... _Violet opened one eye. __

_Don't scream... _It sounded so familiar, like something she had heard long ago but forgotten...the radio?Violet sat up.__

_The world is..._ no, the radio was broken. Broken?

With some effort, Violet dragged herself out of the armchair. It was coming from her son's room.

"Nicky?" She called out as she reached his door

"Nicky?" The door frame was off. She pushed on it, and the entire door fell with a crash to the ground. Off the hinges.

What?

The window, shattered across the floor...and the cradle...overturned...oh GOD.

The baby.

Gone.

The baby was gone.


	3. Goodbye Love

1

_Gone? _

She backed up a few steps and then turned and ran, heart in her throat, feet barely touching the carpet as she tore through the upstairs.

_He has to be somewhere he has to be somewhere he can't be gone he's hiding, he has to be-_

Violet flew down the stairs two at a time and reached the front door, flung it open and ran out into the darkness.

Her bare feet slipped on the icy pavement and she fell to her knees, but hardly felt it. The front gate was up ahead, she grabbed hold of it...and it was locked tight.

Violet shook the bars with all the strength she could summon.

"NO! You stupid...thing! Open!" She gave it a good kick, which only served to hurt her foot badly.

The gate did not open, of course. It was locked with a key, one Violet did not own. Lucafont always locked it on his way out every night. It would be impossible to get out until morning. Violet gave the gate another kick just out of spite.

_I could wait here until he comes back,_ Violet thought as she sat down on the bricks. At first the cold was hardly noticeable, a second thought to the idea-however fruitless-that her son might be returned any moment.

Something wet kissed her shoulder, and Violet looked up. It was starting to snow again. She shivered in her light clothes, smothering a cough in the crook of her arm.

_What are you going to do, stupid? Sit out here and freeze to death?_

Defeated, she stood and limped back into the house.

Violet sat down on the edge of the kitchen table and wracked her brain for another idea.

_Call the police. _

She picked up the phone, and stopped.

They would come out. They would look at the house, the backyard and its' smell, Violet's bloody clothes shoved under her bed, and...

She set the phone back down.

_What are you going to do? Invent something. Say something. Think of something. _

As a child she had believed that there was no problem too large for her to take on, that the answer would come simply because, well, because it would. She was a good person. She was pretty and clever, and...

Now a grown woman, sitting filthy and wet on her own kitchen table, Violet felt that familiar despair washing over her again. If there was a god, it was doubtless he had let them all down. Suddenly feeling a wave of utter hopelessness, she laid her head down in her hands and as usual, forced back her tears.

_What was..._

She stopped and looked up.

The answer to her prayers suddenly seemed in reach.

Violet almost laughed out loud.

Framed by the darkness of the kitchen window, the Tower beckoned to Violet. Perhaps Deus Ex Machina wasn't dead after all.

The first thing to hit Violet as she stepped inside was the smell. Alcohol, sweat and dead animal left to marinate together over a dozen summers.

She dug in her coat pocket for a handkerchief to clasp over her mouth as she stepped tentatively into the lonely room. The smell didn't improve much as she advanced.

Piles of newspapers lay on top of filthy dishes, old wine bottles and layer after layer of dust.

She forced a window open halfway and flicked away a mouse that tried to bite her hand as she did so. Intent on her task Violet ignored the cold and the stench, and even as the sun began to rise, she sat cross-legged in the dust, poring over endless newspaper clippings, captions and page after page of seemingly pointless scribbling.

The sun did little to warm the tower, and even in the bright light streaming through the window, Violet was shivering.

So far, she had found little to help her but a lone newspaper article, half legible and smeared with spaghetti sauce.

_Twin boys found wandering_

_Police were called to a remote area of Paltryville this morning, after two children were found wandering along the road alone. _

_They reported being carried out "By the ankles" and claimed they had escaped from their abductors on a stretch of rural highway, but that their sister was unable to escape. Upon further investigation police officers found the children's parents dead in their home, apparently poisoned early the previous evening. _

_The boys were placed in the care of relatives while the search for the remaining sibling continues. _

_Funeral services for the children's parents are to be held at-"_ The rest of the clipping was illegible. Scribbled in fading ink beneath the article was an address.

_7262 Aberrant Ave. _

The sound of someone at the gate drew Violet's attention. She crawled as best she could to the window, and peeked down.

Lucafont was standing on the walk, staring up at her.

She heard the front gate slam. Violet sat back and closed her eyes, waiting.

"Just what in God's name do you think you're doing?" Lucafont snapped, slamming the doors behind him. Violet ignored him.

"I'm looking for something." She answered, still not sure if she wanted to mention anything about the previous night's events.

"In the tower?" His voice was suspicious, and Violet rolled her eyes.

"He's dead anyway, Luca. It doesn't matter. This does."

"If you're looking for money-" He held out a hook for Violet to grab onto and Violet stood up stiffly, leaning on Lucafont for support. Her legs were asleep, they had been for hours.

"Not money. When you left, you never said goodbye to Nicky?" She asked, though it wasn't really much of a question.

"He was asleep, why does it matter?"

"Nicky's gone." The words sounded strange coming out of her mouth, as if she hadn't yet wrapped her mind around the idea. There was a long wait before Lucafont said anything.

"Gone?"

She sensed something in his voice that made her hesitate. Was it blame? Disbelief?

"I looked everywhere for him." She answered, bristling a little.

"I never said you didn't." Lucafont replied quietly. "If I had known, well...you don't need to hear this now."

"No, finish your sentence. If you knew what?"

"It's not important." He suddenly looked unbelievably uneasy.

"Please tell me?" Violet's voice turned cloying and soft. If there was anything she had learned from spending her entire adult life in love with only one man, it was how to manipulate him. She rested her hand on his shoulder, and leaned forward to whisper in his ear.

"Please?"

At last, Lucafont relented.

"If I had known VFD was coming for your son, I would have done something to stop it. Happy?"

"You knew? You knew and you didn't do anything?" She fought back tears of fury as Lucafont shrugged. "You knew and you didn't even warn me, you stupid..._stupid crippled freak_!"

She shoved him hard. Twice her weight, Lucafont shoved back and pinned her helpless, one of his hooks catching around her long hair, the other pressing down on her throat.

"I didn't mean it, I'm sorry," Violet stammered, suddenly aware of what she had done. "I'm sorry, just don't..."

He pushed her harder. Violet swallowed a cry of pain as the sharp edge of the table dug into the small of her back.

"Don't test me, Violet. I might have seen you naked a dozen times, that doesn't mean I won't put a hook through your guts, got it?"

Violet managed a nod, and Lucafont dropped her.

There was a long moment of silence as Violet tried to catch her breath, and Lucafont rummaged through the boxes and trash on the table. After some digging, he came up with a dusty bottle of wine cradled in his hooks. Violet took it from him.

"I don't know much about VFD." She admitted. "Have a drink and we'll figure something out." She said, pouring the wine into the two glasses that looked least filthy.

"Olaf must have told you something about them."

Violet shrugged. "He didn't talk much about work. All I ever heard him say was how they were always interfering in his plans."

"Something like that." Lucafont said. "They were at each other's throats, to tell you the truth."

"Do you think my son is even alive?"

Lucafont nodded. "I'm sure. They wouldn't bother with kidnapping if they just wanted to kill him."

"Do you think we can get him back?" Violet asked, taking a hesitant sip of her wine. It was positively stomach turning.

"Possible. But I'm not going to help you, if that's what you're asking."

"But you know more about these people, you can help find him!" Violet protested.

"It's not that simple, Violet. You want me to single handedly overthrow VFD, rescue your son and probably a thousand other children, return them all to their rightful homes when most of their parents aren't even living..."

Lucafont gulped down the alcohol in one swallow, and motioned Violet to pour him another.

"They won't hurt him, Violet. He'll have anything his heart ever desires."

"I won't abandon my son, and I won't leave him to be cared for by strangers." Violet said.

Lucafont snorted.

"When he was born I recall you having a different attitude about the whole thing. I don't see what's changed from then until now."

"It was different." Violet replied, finishing off her glass of the miserable tasting stuff. "I'd been in labor damn near two days, you and Olaf wouldn't take me to a hospital. I didn't mean anything I said at that point."

"Fine. You go track down Nikolai, bring him back here. Spend whatever's left of your fortune to find a baby you didn't want, just to prove a point to yourself. It'll only be another week before someone else kidnaps him, so enjoy it, I'm leaving. I'm tired of trying to argue anything through your dense skull." Lucafont threw a rusty set of keys down on the table. "Good luck."

With that said he stood up and stormed out, leaving Violet slightly stunned, rubbing her bruised throat. She watched him leave from the window.

_So he's gone too now. _

With little else to do, Violet picked up the wine glasses and returned to the relative comfort of the house. She dropped them on the steps by the front door, and left the broken glass with little care to who would step on it.

Back up the main stairs, past Nicky's bedroom, past Olaf's room to the small, dark bathroom she had claimed as her own years before. She felt along the wall until she found the doorknob. The light was broken, or there wasn't one, which made it impossible to find. Violet had never bothered to fix it. The darkness kept Olaf and some of his less than hygienic troupe members from finding it, or using it. Years ago, it had made Violet nervous, now she welcomed the solitude. It was dark and claustrophobic, hardly more than a shower, with funny smelling carpet and a broken mirror.

A painting of two menacing looking children oversaw the entire room. Violet made a face. She still hated the decor.

Violet stripped off her damp clothes and stepped into the shower.

The water was hot for once, it fell over her hair and cascaded down her back in a waterfall. Violet sighed with relief. The feeling in her fingers and toes was beginning to return.

_I'm actually enjoying a shower, for once. Alone. _

Feeling guilty, Violet quickly shut off the water.

She walked back to her bedroom dripping wet and stood in front of the mirror as she did every morning, regarding her own reflection. Violet rested her hand on her stomach, long since recovered from her last pregnancy.

_You wouldn't even be able to tell I had a baby once._

She frowned.

_Don't even second guess yourself. You did the right thing_.

_Did I?_ _Would Nicky have been better off being raised by Esme Squalor and her simpering little house-husband?_

_Was I being selfish? _

_I could rescue him. But what would we live on?_

Whatever schemes Olaf planned, the money was never enough to live comfortably, not really. An enormous mansion was no better than a studio apartment if there was no heat in the winter. A crib of mahogany was useless when the baby in it screamed day and night from the pain of countless untreated colds and ear infections.

_Now even that is gone. Now I really do have nothing. _

Violet spread the contents of her jewelry box over the dresser. She had a collection any woman would envy, and she had never worn any of it, not the silver bracelets, not the matching silver hair combs, not even the sapphire earrings that Olaf had presented her with the year before. They reminded her too much of tears. But they were probably worth something. She bit her lip, and forced them back through her healed over piercings. The pain was momentarily dizzying, and as Violet released her ear, she realized her fingertips were wet with blood.

Her decision was made.

Her mission was without question.

Violet was going to retrieve her son.

She was going to fight.

First stop?

Aberrant Avenue.

Violet Baudelaire was going to destroy VFD.


End file.
